


The Time in Between

by goodloser



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodloser/pseuds/goodloser
Summary: Thundercracker and Starscream go on a date to the wine shop, the pottery shop, the combination wine and pottery shop. Starscream is slick as ever and Thundercracker is a gooey nerd.
Relationships: Starscream/Thundercracker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	The Time in Between

“Starscream, we haven’t been on a date in _ages.”_

Starscream cocked an eyebrow, and then he put a delicate hand to the glass of his cockpit. It tinked quietly. “I think you’ll find that as not only the Second in Command but the Commander of the _Decepticon Airforce,_ I have little time for frivolous things such as _dates._ Besides, Thundercracker, why aren’t you asking Skywarp?”

“He slagged me off,” Thundercracker shrugged. His wings sagged with the movement. “He said my latest poem was scrap metal. You need to read it sometime.”

“So… You want a pity date.”

He tilted his head to the side and gave him a pointed look; a slight pout of his lips. “That’s not true, and you know it. ‘Sides, you’re one to talk when you’re always horsin’ around with Lord Megatron.”

“What is horsing.”

“It’s an Earth thing. Never mind.”

Starscream sniffed, “I’m currently off-limits until that old fool realises _Soundwave_ is hopelessly infatuated with him and _does_ something about it.”

Ah, the usual drama of the Decepticon faction. Thundercracker was currently laid out on the floor, on his belly. He lazily kicked his legs as he scribbled something-or-other on a metal journal with a laserscribe. Starscream was sat on the berth. He was reading the latest scientific journals on Tadmorian circumwasps and was not doubt already concocting up a new scheme to use them.

“So you _are_ free to go on a date.”

“Thundercracker, I am _studying_ thank you very much. Bad enough that I have to do this in my free time – you’re lucky I’m not willing to use you as a test subject for these parasitic Telenomids. I have reserved Skywarp for that pleasure.”

“Skywarp won’t like that.”

“Yes, I know. Maybe I’ll use Ramjet instead.”

“Use Blitzwing. He’s been getting on my circuits lately.”

“... I like Blitzwing.” Starscream sounded miffed.

Suddenly, Thundercracker’s journal was pushed into his hands; the datapad fell to the berth. “Read it,” he was commanded.

 _Sky in blue_ _  
__flies_ _  
__wet in August_

It was written in Thundercracker’s characteristically neat and orderly Vosian. There were glyphs scratched out and written in the margins and around it; it was clear this journal was well-used. Starscream couldn’t help the wry smile it brought to his face. “A classical Vosian protych. And Skywarp trashed this?”

“Yeah.”

“Simpleton,” he rolled his optics. “It’s good work, Thundercracker.”

“Turn the page,” Thundercracker pointed, so Starscream did so. The next sheet of metal was even messier, with words scrawled all over the page and a half-verse in progress in the middle. Thundercracker was trying very hard not to beam. “That’s what I’m working on right now.”

 _Glasses read_ _ ~~ing~~ _ _  
__~~runs~~ _ _pet_ ~~ _s_~~ _  
__Red eyes_

 _ ~~Meteor~~ ~~Shooting~~ _ _Comet red_ _  
__falls_ _  
_~~_Sky_~~

It was a strong enough start. Starscream handed the journal back to him, still smiling softly. “It’s good so far. I like it. I take it it’s about us?”

Thundercracker couldn’t help breaking into a grin as he pawed through his pages, fondly remembering past work. “Yeah. So, how about that date?”

“Perhaps I’m interested, if you can write me a _glowing_ ode. Where would we go?”

He looked at the ground, suddenly shy. His fans kicked up a higher setting. “I was thinking we can go to the Chug ‘N’ Squeeze.”

“The what.”

“Mixmaster opened up this energon wine and pottery shop. We can go make vases and get tipsy or somethin’.”

Starscream switched off his datapad. There was no helping it now. “Mixing overcharged Cons with molten metal sounds like a _horrendous_ idea. But I suppose if we get bored we can start watching the mess those other dolts will undoubtedly make.”

* * *

The terribly-named _Chug ‘N’ Squeeze_ was located in the scenic midlevels of the base. The windows gave a gorgeous view of the sealevel outside, where the diaphragm of the water constantly burst and reformed and clashed again at the glass. It split the world outside into a bright morning and a murky underneath where Earthen aquatic creatures would sometimes investigate the Decepticons within. Scavenger was working the till. Mixmaster was beside Rumble and Frenzy and trying to teach them to use the pottery wheel, although they seemed to prefer smearing each other with lead and laughing, much to Mixmaster’s chagrin.

Starscream and Thundercracker sat at a table and Scavenger was on them at quick pace, handing out a house menu. “What can I get you two?”

“Shoo, fool, we’ve barely laid optics on the words,” Starscream waved him off. “What do you think, Thundercracker? A Slepterien Blue? Or perhaps a cocktail.”

Thundercracker laughed, “Dunno if I trust any of Mixmaster’s concoctions.” For example, the Tarn Tango: well-aged highgrade, popping manganese, and a raw xenomorph egg. It sounded awful just reading about it. “The Blue sounds good enough.”

Starscream ordered for them quickly after once Scavenger had returned, and soon they were sipping a pleasant cool and dreamy beverage out of steep flutes. 

“The atmosphere in here is kinda…” Thundercracker trailed off. “Noisy.”

“Yes, well, the Terrible Twos are here, after all. Perhaps I’ll whine at Soundwave to come pick up his brats. In fact, I think I’ll do just that.”

He waited patiently while Starscream fired off a ping conversation. Starscream had an animated way of using his comms, and soon he was gesticulating at nothing and rolling his optics into thin air. Thundercracker watched with a glowing feeling in his spark; it was moments like these and Skywarp’s own buoyancy that reminded him why he fell in love with the pair of them. He was leaning onto one hand and still smiling when Starscream had apparently finished.

“Someone looks pleased with himself.”

“Pleased with you, actually.” He took another daring sip of his drink. “Did you know you look amazing when you’re annoyed?”

“Tell me about it. Our leader sure seems to think so.”

“Come on, Star.” He covered Starscream’s hand with his own. “No shop talk tonight. No Lord Megatron. In fact, as far as we’re confirmed, he doesn’t exist.”

“... Can he be dead?”

“... Alright.”

“Finally.” It was Starscream’s turn to sip, seemingly smug. “A little reason to celebrate, I suppose.”

Mixmaster had finally wrestled enough with the cassettes to make his way over. He was cheery; a terrible sign on any other day that something awful was about to happen. “Welcome to the Chug ‘N’ Squeeze!”

“Awful name, Mixmaster,” Starscream quipped without looking up.

“Right! Well, do you two have any experience with pottery?”

“Only in the palatial vases which used to adorn my flat,” he drawled. “Get on with it.”

Mixmaster began on with the tutorial. “This is a kick wheel; you use the pedal to make it spin. Don’t get it going too fast for small projects. We use these tools to mould the pottery. Here at the Chug ‘N’ Squeeze, we use lead for its low melting point, but I ain’t mind if you wanna throw something more heatworthy on there like a copper alloy, we can fire it up all the same. You want to grab a cut of lead to heat up into a melting state, though not too much, just to make it malleable; for lead, we use the blowtorch on low. Just until about… that sort of consistency. It should _not_ be hot to touch. Spin the wheel, and throw it like that. You shape it using a servo and you can add details with these tools – see, got a great lip on that one now. You don’t want no gas bubbles either. Make sure to pop them straight away. When you’re done, you can call me over and I’ll get them ready in the kiln.” And with that, he squashed his lead vase straight down.

“It seems simple enough,” Thundercracker offered.

It was not simple.

He was too timid on the pedal, so the wheel was constantly slowing down to the point it was too slow to mould. Then his first attempt at a vase had become too top-heavy and fell over. It squashed on the floor and he was quickly apologising frenetically to a nonplussed Mixmaster. He attempted a bowl, next, and it came out alright, though perhaps a bit lumpy and uneven in places. And plain. Maybe if he lacquered it and painted it it’d be fine. He was so focused on trying to make a cup for energon (tongue sticking out in earnest, frown of concentration on his face) he didn’t register Starscream speaking to him the first five times he tried.

 _“Thundercracker._ I am talking to you.”

“Wha – oh, sorry Star. I’m trying to make this one look nice ‘n’ all. What were you saying?”

“I was saying I should take you and Sky somewhere nice sometime. Maybe that island where I, ahem, _rescued_ the Combaticons. It was warm there, and absolutely more than enough space for the three of us. I can drink in the sun, you can read me romantic poems. Skywarp can fetch us an Earth coconut or something.”

He felt sleepy just hearing about it. Maybe he’d had a bit too much of the wine. His fans were spinning audibly now. “That sounds nice. I could do one right now, gimme a click. Er, _Wings like fire, body like home, star desire, I feel known._ How’s that?”

Starscream actually _giggled_ slightly; Thundercracker had not heard a sound like that out of him in aeons. He put a coy hand to his own face. “Adorable. You’re pretty good at this, you know.”

Shy again, Thundercracker looked at his cup. The ridges he was cutting into it meant it hadn’t fallen apart already. “Come on, I’m just… alright, I s’pose – Whoa! Starscream!”

“What?”

“Your vase is so cool! How’d you do it?”

“What? Is this good?” Starscream was oddly humble; perhaps a talent in something as random as pottery had caught him off guard. But it was certainly a brilliant vase spinning in between his servos there – it had an alluringly organic curve to it, with a beautiful narrow neck that certainly had required a lot of control to craft. There was even a series of square holes that must’ve been made near the lip using very soft pedals.

“It’s – it looks amazing. I just, well, I’m only good at making bowls, I guess.”

“Come here,” he murmured and stood up (why he said that when he went to Thundercracker was anyone’s guess) to stand behind Thundercracker. “Move your wings, I can’t see.”

Thundercracker did as he was told, and suddenly Starscream’s warm front was pushed to his back. Starscream’s head propped up next to his, and Thundercracker shifted his landing gear to allow for more space. His venting was soft and gentle on Thundercracker’s plates.

Thundercracker’s fans kicked it up another notch.

Starscream’s arms scooped around his waist so he could rest his hands on Thundercracker’s, and he began to help him mould the metal. He scooped it into a small pot, and then began to mould it further into an elegant bottle. Thundercracker would’ve blushed red as the pale humans tended to in his soaps if he was able. He swore Starscream could hear his spark spinning in his chest cavity.

“See, it’s not that hard. You just need a little… encouragement.” Thundercracker could _almost_ hear the edge of a leer, of a smirk in Starscream’s liquid voice, barely above a whisper into his audial.

“Th… Thanks,” he stuttered back, like a day-old newspark.

All in all, the date was a success.


End file.
